


On the Flip Side

by bookscorpion



Series: Changing of the Light [11]
Category: Shadowrun: Hong Kong
Genre: Angst and Feels, Drug Use, Duncan has a bad time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Trust, astral perception is a trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 01:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion/pseuds/bookscorpion
Summary: His heart starts to race at the thought of leaving the room, stepping out into the maelstrom of colours and emotions that are other people. He doesn't want to feel them on his skin, doesn't want them in his mind.Duncan gets drugged at a party. Rhys does what he can to help him through his bad trip.





	On the Flip Side

'There's something wrong with Duncan.' The sentence pulls Rhys out of his conversation instantly and he turns to the nervously smiling woman who has appeared at his elbow.

'What do you mean, wrong? Where is he?' He's going over everything that 'wrong' can mean in his mind at lightspeed. When the woman waves vaguely in the direction of a door with a smallish crowd in front of it, Rhys weaves his way through the party guests until he finds their host behind the the crowd, guarding the door. He shoulders a couple of people aside to stand in front of her. 'What's going on?'

She shrugs, clearly worried. 'I'm not sure. He's not feeling well and told us to get you. And to leave him alone. I think he took something?'

Rhys stares at her. 'Took something? What - nevermind. Do me a favour and get these people away from the door, okay?' He steps into the room and hears a general murmur of 'yeah, give him space' and 'the show is over' from the crowd before he pulls the door shut.

It's a small bathroom and Duncan is cowered on the floor, leaning against the wall. He looks up when Rhys hunkers down in front of him, his pupils blown wide, gaze unfocused. 'Rhys?'

'I'm here. What happened? Merle said you took something?' Rhys touches Duncan to feel his pulse and Duncan whimpers. It scares Rhys. Duncan's skin is clammy, his pulse racing.

'I didn't, you know I didn't! I can't see, it's all just colours? I don't know what's wrong-' Duncan sounds panicky and he holds on to Rhys' arm hard enough that it hurts, his breath hitching.

'Colours?' Rhys shifts to astral sight to get a better idea what's going on and gasps when he sees the bright glow of Duncan's aura. The glow normally only present in Awakened people. 'Fuck, Duncan, did you take Flipside? No, I'm sorry, you already said you didn't. Someone slipped you something.'

Rhys takes a deep breath, he feels pretty panicky himself. 'Ok, first off, you're okay. It'll be over in a couple of hours, in the morning at the latest. I've heard of this stuff. It lets you have astral sight even if you don't have magic.' He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment. 'Can you find our connection? Try to focus on it.' He holds Duncan's hand against the thick cord between their auras.

With a shaky breath, Duncan nods. 'Okay. Can you get us home? I want to go home.' He closes his eyes and puts his head back against the wall, clenching his teeth. 'I can't make it go away. Please help me.' Rhys has rarely seen him so miserable.

'Let's get you home. Do you think you can walk?' When Duncan nods, Rhys is immensely relieved. It's just a five minute walk, but there's no way he could carry Duncan. He wants to leave just as badly before he loses it, finds and punches whoever gave Duncan the drug. And he wants to get Duncan inside his ward before he attracts unwanted attention. 'Can you let go of me? I'll be right back.' When Duncan takes his hand off of his arm, Rhys stands and takes a look out of the door. The crowd is gone although people are still watching the door to see what's happening. Merle turns to him, looking worried.

'Someone fucking slipped him Flipside. We're going home. Try to find who's passing out that shit before this gets worse.' Rhys hears the growl in his own voice.

'I'm sorry... I had no idea. Let me know when you're home!' Merle strides towards the kitchen and Rhys suspects she has a good idea who to talk to. But he doesn't care right now. He has more important things to do, like getting Duncan to his feet and guiding him carefully through the living room, out of the front door and down the stairs into the street. It's slow going because Duncan has no idea how to navigate with astral perception. He keeps stumbling and clings to Rhys' arm, eyes squeezed shut. His breathing is fast and shallow and he flinches away from every person they meet.

It takes them a good quarter of an hour to make their way home and Duncan is visibly exhausted when they finally get there. He baulks when they arrive at the door and Rhys remembers that he can now _see_ the barrier. 'It's my ward. You can walk through this.' Duncan takes a hesitant step forward and shakes himself like a wet dog.

Rhys sits him down. 'I'm sorry, you need to wait it out. I could hook you up to a medkit, but it won't do anything against the astral perception. Do you want something to drink?'

'Are you angry at me? I'm sorry I didn't pay attention, but I didn't think someone there would spike my drink. I fucked up, I'm sorry.' Duncan sits on the couch trying to take up as little space as possible. He shudders when Rhys comes close and shrinks in on himself like he's expecting Rhys to hit him.

'What?' Rhys freezes and takes a step back. 'I'm angry at whoever did this to you, not at _you_.' He crouches down at some distance from Duncan, makes himself small and tries to swallow his anger.

Duncan shifts and slowly slides down until he's lying on his side, hugging himself. Rhys goes to get a duvet, he needs to keep Duncan warm. He tucks Duncan in, tells him that it'll be okay, it'll be over soon. That he won't leave. There's no reaction except a low keening noise he doubts Duncan is even aware of.

He casts a spell, sends his thoughts to Duncan with a touch. 'Talk to me, please.'

Duncan raises his head, his gaze still unfocused. But his voice in Rhys' mind is calmer than before. 'How do you do this. What's that noise - fuck, can you even hear that?'

Rhys knows what he is talking about. He rarely even hears it until he pays attention to it, but he suddenly realises just how loud it is. It must be even louder for Duncan. 'That's the plants. And me, a bit. If it bothers you, I can put the plants into the kitchen?'

'No, it's okay. Can you come sit with me?' The swirling clouds of Duncan's aura start to slow, slivers of green appearing in the deep purple, like saplings from soil. Rhys gets onto the couch with him and hugs him to his chest, leaning against the arm rest. Duncan puts his face against Rhys' neck, breathing in. One hand sneaks under Rhys' shirt, fingers tracing circles on his skin.

Duncan's heartbeat evens out, his limbs grow heavy. Rhys runs his palms over Duncan's back, gently petting him. Their auras connect, deliberately reaching into each other instead of mixing wildly. Calmness spreads through Rhys and he cannot say if it comes from Duncan or from himself but it fills both of them.

Rhys closes his eyes and slips back into the mundane world, falls asleep listening to Duncan's slow breathing.

  


  


As the bathroom door closes behind Merle, Duncan squeezes his eyes shut but the colours don't go away. It's better now that he's alone, less noisy, less swirling patterns and colours that block everything else out. But he still can't see anything but vague shapes. He doesn't dare stand up, he's lost. The cold floor and the tiled wall he has his back to are the only things he _knows_ for sure are there. Everything else is either a black void or clouds and streams of colours that connect, flow into each other and never stay the same.

He tries to calm himself, takes deep breaths. The deep purple that fills most of his vision pulses in time with his breaths and he's freezing cold, sweat cooling on his skin. When he tries to rub his arms for warmth, he can't tell where they are, he only finds out by blind fumbling. As soon as he takes his hands away, it's as if his body isn't there. Hugging his knees to his chest, he waits for Rhys to find him.

The door opens and more colours float into the room together with a blast of sounds cut off suddenly as the door closes again. More shades of purple, some so dark to be almost black moved closer toward him, glowing warm around the edges. He can tell it's a person from the shape and he hopes it's Rhys, says his name out loud.

'I'm here. What happened? Merle said you took something?' A hand clasps Duncan's wrist and it's like electricity passes between them, a sharp shock. It's not _painful_ , but unpleasant all the same. Duncan has no words to describe it, but Rhys' worry is suddenly a presence in his mind, invades him. A whimper escapes him.

'I didn't, you know I didn't! I can't see, it's all just colours? I don't know what's wrong!' He's losing himself, there are no more barriers between his mind and the world. Rhys' shape starts to flow into everything else and Duncan grips Rhys' arm, tries not to lose him as well. If he lets go, Rhys might just melt into all the other colours and Duncan won't find him again.

Rhys is talking but Duncan has difficulties taking it all in. He latches on to Rhys' explanation that someone slipped him something and tries to believe him when he says Duncan will be okay again in a few hours. The only thing he wants to do now is go home and he says so. Letting go of Rhys even for a minute is hard and he has to fight for his muscles to obey him. Rhys has shown him the tendril connecting them and Duncan focuses on it. It's his lifeline.

Getting up is an even harder fight, even with Rhys helping him. His heart starts to race at the thought of leaving the room, stepping out into the maelstrom of colours and emotions that are other people. He doesn't want to feel them on his skin, doesn't want them in his mind. Acting on instinct, he keeps his head down and his eyes shut even though it doesn't help one bit. Rhys is holding his hand and guides him, talking softly to him all the time. Duncan doesn't really listen, it's too noisy, but the sound of Rhys' voice and his touch ground him. He clings to Rhys' arm.

The ground is a black void under him, every step an exercise in trust. He has no way of knowing if the void won't swallow him up suddenly. The shape of things is still vaguely there, he can identify doors and stairs, cars and street lights outside. But he can barely judge distances, keeps stumbling, walks into things if Rhys doesn't steer him away in time. Shivering with adrenaline, he finds it hard to control his movements.

It's late at night so there are not that many people around. Still, every person is an assault on Duncan's senses, a loud, bright whirlwind of colours and emotions he cannot block. He shies away from the red hot anger of a drunk who cannot find his car, from the piercingly shrill, acrid fear of a woman who sees two orks coming her way and crosses the street to avoid them.

If he has thought that their apartment would be a place where he can calm down, he is mistaken. They have to pass through a barrier shimmering like mother of pearl to get in and Rhys explains that it's the ward he made. It clings to Duncan's skin for a second, lays itself over his face like a caul. Then they have passed through it.

The smells and the layout of the apartment are familiar, but it feels _wrong_ in a way nothing else so far has, exactly because it should be comforting and is not.

'I'm sorry, you need to wait it out. I could hook you up to a medkit, but it won't do anything against the astral perception. Do you want something to drink?' Rhys helps him sit down on the couch. Now that they are alone and Duncan doesn't have to concentrate on walking, Rhys' anger spills over into Duncan, burning his mind.

Suddenly, Duncan can't stand having him close, almost pushes him away. 'Are you angry at me? I'm sorry I didn't pay attention, but I didn't think someone there would spike my drink. I fucked up, I'm sorry.' He makes himself small, tries to get away from Rhys' aura. Having Rhys angry at him is bad enough under normal circumstances and right now it sends him into a silent panic.

Rhys steps back, sits on the floor at a distance. The fiery strands of his anger disentangle themselves from Duncan, pull back into Rhys. 'I'm angry at whoever did this to you, not at _you_.'

Duncan takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out. Now that he's sitting still again, his limbs gets lost, dissolve in the colours. He moves restlessly, curls up on his side so he can bring as much of his body as possible into contact with the couch. Rhys brings a duvet from the bedroom, puts it on top of him. Duncan's body reassembles itself under its weight and he relaxes a tiny bit, stretches out slowly.

There's a constant murmur filling the room, with low musical sounds like bells at a great distance. It mixes with Rhys voice, distracts Duncan so he can't parse what Rhys is saying. He must have missed a question because renewed worry surges over him, travelling along the tendril connecting him to Rhys.

A quick touch to his arm, the tingle of magic on his skin and Rhys' voice loud and clear in his mind. 'Talk to me, please.' Duncan knows the spell, so he isn't surprised. Hearing Rhys like this helps him calm down. He can concentrate on talking to Rhys in his mind and everything else grows more quiet.

'How do you do this. What's that noise - fuck, can you even hear that?' What if this _isn't_ astral sight and what if it doesn't go away? Duncan sits up, draws the blanket around him, the thought of having to spend the rest of his life like this tearing apart what little composure he has managed to gain.

'That's the plants. And me, a bit. If it bothers you, I can put the plants into the kitchen?' Rhys is still worried and there's an undercurrent of anger, a dark red glow that circles his aura like a shark. But little by little, Duncan manages to tell apart what is Rhys' and what is his own aura. The dark shapes and shadows that makes up the rest of the room are unsettling and seem to move, to twitch. The plants, now that he pays attention to them, are islands of colour and sound in the void, bringing the smell of earth and rain. It calms him.

He reaches out to Rhys. 'No, it's okay. Can you come sit with me?'

Rhys climbs up on the couch, leans against the armrest and Duncan nestles into him. Duncan holds his breath like he's diving into water as he lies down and Rhys' aura closes around him. There's a moment of confusion when their auras mix and swirl and then flow apart again, intertwine much more leisurely. Rhys' heartbeat is measured and strong. His familiar smell comforts Duncan.

Breathing in time with Rhys, one hand under Rhys' shirt, Duncan relaxes. The colours settle, the sounds grow quieter. He slips into a meditative state, follows the connections between Rhys, the plants and himself back and forth, watches the slow change of hues and shades over time. Rhys falls asleep and the plants wake up as dawn approaches.

When Duncan wakes up, the colours are gone. He cannot recall falling asleep, his dreams filled with flickering shapes and emotions. Rhys is still sleeping, squeezed between Duncan and the back of the couch. Duncan ignores his hunger and the fact that his leg has gone numb in favour of staying cuddled up to Rhys a bit longer.

He has no desire to repeat the experience, but he is glad to have seen it, to have gotten a tiny glimpse at this hidden world. To have shared in what he thinks of as Rhys' world this once. He closes his eyes and remembers Rhys' aura.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [a/fanfiction reddit](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/bjeim2/prompts_challenge_round_14_may/) prompt challenge of May. I picked Point of View and Sightless.
> 
> beta read by [Raunchyandpaunchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy) \- thank you!


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